Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Beloved Little Girls I Aengus Floralian Mg, pedo My fate was sealed early, in my first year of school. Age 7, I fell in love with the girl who sat beside me in class. Her soft, blonde hair fell lightly to her shoulders, her cornflower-blue eyes shone as bright as sapphires against her snow-white skin. I kissed her cheek; she wiped it and looked at me in shocked amazement. My fate was sealed: I loved little girls. Time passed and little boy me grew. Early puberty came and with it stronger desires and masturbatory joys. My first real sexual experiences came at age 11 during a family summer holiday, when I took to cornering my 6-year-old sister in the garden and getting her to let me put my hand in her panties. The feeling was wonderful. Standing behind her with my little erect cock pushing against her back, I would beg her to let me touch her pussy. She would agree reluctantly. The sensation was exquisite: the soft mound felt magical under my fingers, the slit a little sticky when a digit found it and tried to slide up and down in it. She would not let me do this for long. I would have liked to go on for hours. But she would struggle and wriggle. Once, her wriggling against my erect penis that was pushing against her back while my finger felt her little slit made me come in my pants with short, sharp squirts of joy. Once, I persuaded her to show me her pussy and we went to a bedroom where she sat on the side of a bed with her panties down and I was able to see and touch her hairless underage little pussy, pull the lips aside to look at the little pink treasures and baby clit. The sight burned deep into my mind and remains there, a treasured memory. [Like all good memories, it is tinged with regret at my failure to take full advantage. I could have done so much more. Why didn -(TM)t I feel her for longer... Why didn -(TM)t I put my finger into the little virgin hole that was available to me? Why didn -(TM)t I have the presence of mind to get her to do something with my penis?] After that summer, she never again let me (or maybe I didn -(TM)t dare) put my hands in her panties. The best I could manage was to -keep her company - at bathtime, feasting my eyes, but nothing else, on her nice smooth limbs, watching the water running down her front and rustling over her peachy little pussy when she stood up to rinse under the shower. Still, it filled my mind with images of lovely little-girl body, rounded thighs, soft skin, little soft, triangular, cushiony pussy, so near and yet so unreachable and untouchable. At some stage, I eventually became aware that her nipples, ignored until then as being flat and as uninteresting as a boy -(TM)s, were beginning to swell. My mind expanded to accept and lust after the soft pink beauty and smoothness of now-growing aureolas with the merest hint of breast meat pushing the nipples just proud of the girl -(TM)s previously flat chest. I began offering to wash her back and occasionally had the opportunity to sweep soapy hands over the little swellings . How I wished I could record the sensation in ultra-slow motion so as to replay and fully experience the fleeting sensation of delight I thus gained! Sometimes I would put her to bed and play -tickling - games, also purely in order for my palms to be able to glide over those sexy little buds. The groundwork was done and the pedophile way was to be my way. My sister started going to school and would sometimes bring girlfriends home to play. I loved to act the good older brother and join in card and board games, sitting cross-legged on the floor, catching glimpses, sometimes lengthy ones, of smooth pre-teen thighs and thin white panties covering hairless pussies clearly outlined below. I was still too scared of getting told on to take things any further: my cock and hands had to make do with being busy later. There were special moments as I absorbed the beauty of pre-teen faces, the charms of the lovely girls who at ages 7 and 8 already had -the look -: some preteens are just little girls, but some have an extra-special sexiness. These ones glow (and seem semi-consciously to know it) with a sensuality that is all the more powerful for being innocent and unknowing, sexy but innocent of sex, sort of slutty but without any real sluttishness. They are usually the prettiest -- or is that just the way it seems to me? Smooth faces with bright eyes, pink lips and pearly teeth that dare one, beg one, to kiss and lick them. Rounded legs with smooth thighs rise to pert bouncy little bottoms, charms concealed by panties that in a perfect world would soon be gently removed to reveal that place with the smoothest skin, the little cushiony V that needs to be stroked first with light prodding fingertips so as to appreciate the gentle fleshiness and warmth of this peach-fuzzed wonder, to trace the soft line of the little labia from the silkiness of closed thighs to the dimple at the top, to maybe drag a gentle fingertip with a little more pressure along that line so as to see the little-girl flesh part under one -(TM)s touch and feel the warmth. Then after that, to cover the little cushiony V first with little kisses so that appreciative lips can confirm the sensations reported by one -(TM)s finger before letting one -(TM)s tongue follow the labia line, licking into that delicious little love-box, tongue-tip delving lovingly into the tight folds. Such little girls are the promise of heaven. The most I got to enjoy back then was an afternoon of stroking the little-girl thighs of one such beauty as she allowed me to lean over and advise during a card game. My trembling hand was able logically to rest on that warm little thigh, just getting a fleeting touch of the precious pussy, the sweet swelling hiding behind a thin layer of white cotton. It was not until my sister was 12 that I was able to do more with one of her girlfriends. A smooth-skinned brunette with silky straight hair and flashing, daring brown eyes, I had lustfully and admiringly watched her pass from a flat-chested, coltish little thing in tight jeans that outlined her lovely slender thighs and firm little bottom to a gently rounded pre-teen with newly formed minitits the size of small apples and a pert bottom to die for. One evening when this friend was staying over, my sister declared herself tired and went to bed, assuming her little friend would follow. However, she stayed on downstairs with me, chatting childishly but with a delightful pretence at grown-upness. Her silky brown hair framed her lovely face, her lovely lips parted as she spoke, so that eyes and teeth glinted in the softly-lit sitting room. Her little bra-less rounded breasts formed two pert mounds under her T-shirt. At last the time seemed to have come. I reached out and stroked her hair, wondering what the reaction would be. Like a kitten, she accepted the touch and my courage grew. I stroked her some more, running her smooth hair between my fingers. The moment was electrical. She looked up at me, a slight question in her warm, bright, brown eyes, but without tensing. I told her how pretty she was, and she smiled with her warm, smooth, lips. I leant forward and placed my lips on hers, knowing that I was the winner of this lovely girl -(TM)s first adult kiss, feeling her tentativeness, her soft breath, her slight tremble, her courage in continuing. She was so gently warm, her lips so soft, her breath so gentle, hot and sweet. I kissed her lips and her cheeks as I ran my fingers through her hair until my hands reached the silken skin of her slender little neck. The back of her head rested on the palm of my hand and I kissed her tenderly but more strongly. Her little mouth opened slightly and with the tip of my tongue, gently so as not to frighten her, I explored the virgin mouth until her tongue timidly moved to meet mine. I felt her heat rise as novel passion awoke in her, as she began to enjoy her first real sexual experience. I felt as if my heart would explode as I went on kissing this delectable little girl whose looks and body had been the stuff of my wet dreams for over a year. The reality was even better. Her lithe little tongue met mine timidly but hungrily, her taste was sweeter than anything I had been able to imagine, her slender little body was so easy and delightful to hold. As we went on kissing, I slipped my hand under her T-shirt and stroked the smooth skin of her side and lower ribs. She melted further into me and I moved my hand to her right breast. With a small intake of breath, her kiss grew more intense, her lips became more engorged, her breath hotter. Her pre-teen titty just filled my hand with its firm softness, its skin smooth and warm and lovelier than any dream. I let its warmth and roundness fill my hand, the sensation messaged along my nerves up to my delighted brain and down to my straining cock. I could feel her nipple hardening against my palm. We kissed and kissed. I could hear the rustling of cloth as she rubbed her legs together. She shuddered briefly as she came, her sweet little tongue jerking in my mouth. I came in my pants. Her little breast trembled in my hand, the sweetest, warmest little handful of delight I had ever held. I had just been gifted with a pre-teens -(TM) first kiss and first orgasm with a male. To this day, it is one of the most precious gifts I have even received, a golden moment in time. I had just turned 18 and had a driving license at last. The summer sped by in secret meetings. I would collect her from near her house and would drive to a nearby forest where we would cuddle on a picnic rug, kissing until we were breathless, as my hands delighted in the feel of her cosy, springy titties with their gloriously smooth, engorged aureolas. Her tiny nipples, which had so recently learnt to harden and rise, pulsed electricity into my palms. We dared not undress, worried about potentially dangerous encounters with strangers. We would caress like that for hours, my cock straining against my jeans, my balls aching with lust and delight, as I took in the childlike roundness of her smooth cheeks, the delightful lines of her soft, pink lips, the beauty, shine and clarity of her wet, brown pre-teen eyes, the smooth pinkness of her young, wet tongue, the delightful taste of her young girl saliva. We would come stickily in our respective pants and drive back, making plans on the way for the next escape. She asked to be made love to. But as I said earlier, life is full of missed opportunities, risks not taken, dangers not risen to. This was was my sister -(TM)s girlfriend, her parents friends of my parents. I was too afraid of an unwanted pregnancy. This was before the days of easy birth control and day-after pills, in a Catholic country where even buying condoms would be no easy matter. Mind you, using a condom when penetrating a 12-year-old virgin -(TM)s little pussy would of itself be a greater sin, as it would deprive the participants of too many precious sensations that should not be missed. Madly, despite my raging cock, I sadly suggested that we had better not, although I reached down into her tight jeans, my hand attaining her heavenly pussy where I felt its light covering of silken hair, wet as wet could be with her virgin juices. I cupped her little pussy under my fingers, a finger edging into the slit. She rubbed herself sweetly and warmly against it and I felt the swollen nub of her clitoris poking out. Our tongues interwound madly, diving, in turn, deep into each other -(TM)s mouths.The heat of her mouth on mine, and of my hand on that sweet, sweet pre-teen pussy with its light covering of new hair, was intense. Wetly, oh so wetly, she came, stuffing her smooth little-girl tongue, rigid and jerking with her orgasm, deep into my mouth so that I too came with my cock straining against my jeans. Such was the foundation of my proud pedophilia, which sadly went into a long abeyance. She and her family moved away, to another country. I went on to university and marriage and for two decades plus, I was left with just these fond memories of the sweetly hot virgin I had fondled and loved and whom I love in absentia to this day. (C) aengus 2012 Did you like this story? What did you think? It would be really rewarding to hear from a reader! Why not -" please! -" send me a few words (or more if you feel like it). Click here for a response form: Reader Feedback